


Garden of Marguerite

by badbunny (mimilop)



Series: bunny!!! on yoi [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angel Katsuki Yuuri, Demon Victor Nikiforov, Dom Victor Nikiforov, Dom/sub, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Master/Pet, Size Difference, Sub Katsuki Yuuri, Victor spelled with a k, complete and utter blasphemy, he can step on me, let long-haired viktor top you cowards, more tags to come with part 2 B)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23800765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimilop/pseuds/badbunny
Summary: When a whole family of fallen angels drops unannounced into Viktor's territory, he's not entirely sure what to make of it. Lucky for him, the sweetest little member of their group seems all too eager to offer himself in exchange for the safety of his family.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: bunny!!! on yoi [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716121
Comments: 15
Kudos: 158





	Garden of Marguerite

**Author's Note:**

> sooo this was originally gonna be included in my oneshots fic but i got a little carried away..... (*;>艸<) so now it'll be its own separate ficlet!!（*^ ♡ ^*）i haven't posted anything in so long, it feels really good to write again!!
> 
> i hope y'all are staying safe and feeling well, best of luck to all of you and your friends + family ♡♡♡

Viktor’s lounging on his outrageously big couch, settled deep into its plush velvet pillows as he reads a novel, when he senses it. If it were anything else, perhaps a burning elk wandering too close to the edge of the soot-laden forest, or maybe Christophe taking the scenic route to visit, he wouldn’t notice until they were closer to his home. But this is a disturbance he’d recognize a thousand miles away, up to the very outskirts of his territory: holy magic. It’s a ways from his residence, in the vast, grey fields that simmer between the forest and the hedge barrier surrounding his yard, but strong enough to crackle the air Viktor breathes. His lungs are heavier with the weight of it, skin tingling as it’s attacked by microscopic particles of light. Too little to hurt, but that’s hardly comforting. If Viktor is affected at this distance, it must be strong. Makkachin whimpers, startled from her spot at Viktor’s feet by the sudden change in atmosphere, and she paws frantically at her snout before bounding towards the back of the house. Under different circumstances, he’d chase after her with arms outstretched, cooing and calling to comfort his baby hellhound, but there’s no time to spare.

In record time he’s up and across the room, grabbing a matching set of thick black gloves, coat, and trousers. After a few tries, he manages to fully enchant them with a dark protection spell, the holy magic making it more difficult than usual. There’s no telling if it will actually help, depending on how strong whatever’s out there truly is, but even Viktor knows when to swallow his pride and allow himself extra protection, if only for survival. Briefly, he debates what weapon he should bring before settling on a long, thin spear he can hide in the pleats of his coat. Then, once he's changed, he’s out the door. He barely acknowledges the black clouds billowing through Hell’s rubicund sky, indicating it’s their equivalent of evening, before he’s enveloped in a whirl of magenta smoke.

When the magic releases him a second later, the air is punched out of his lungs, stumbling to his knees in the ashen leaves piled on top of the forest floor. Instinctively, he tries to suck in more breath, but it’s so full of holy light that he coughs. After he’s finally adjusted to the thickness of the air, he looks up, eyes widening when he finds tiny white orbs dancing through the trees like fairies. He’s teleported as close to the intrusion as he can while granting enough distance to let him sneak towards it on foot, and he finally has an idea as to what he’s dealing with. A sense of urgency pulls him to his feet and drives him forward, ignoring the burning, suffocating weight in his chest.

He reaches the verge of the woods and stops, slipping behind a large, black trunk when he hears voices. Although he strains to eavesdrop, focusing entirely on the holy magic’s source roughly 10 feet away from him, he can’t make out anything specific, only that it’s a group of intruders. The light is sizzling loudly now, little streams of foul-smelling smoke furling from the spots where droplets of it kiss his clothes, and he has all but one second to worry that it’ll alert his unwanted guests before the voices stop. With a sigh, Viktor realizes he’s been caught, and so he straightens to his full height before stepping out of the shadows.

Farther into the clearing stands a small flock of angels, two males and two females, with every pair of eyes trained on the demon. They’re likely a family, considering their similar features, but it’s hard for Viktor to be sure because their combined auras are blinding, forcing him to squint. What’s easy to see is how their wings are singed at the tips, petite balls of white magic rising steadily as the darkness eats their light. It will eventually consume them entirely, leaving only scars to prove wings were ever there at all. His intuition was right; these are fallen angels. It feels like an eternity of choked, volatile silence before the elder male steps forward, the others recoiling behind him. Viktor meets his stern gaze with a feint of amusement.

“What do you want, _demon?_ ”

He spits the word like it tastes disgusting on his tongue, and Viktor doesn’t have to feign his haughty offense. It’s been eons since he’s interacted with an angel; he forgot how self-righteous they are.

“What I want is to know why you’re in _my_ territory,” he snips, satisfaction outweighing the scratchiness of his throat when the angel winces. 

The smallest angel cries, apparently unable to contain it any longer as he throws himself into the younger female’s arms. She glares something fierce at Viktor, clutching the little male to her chest, and he smirks in return. He knows exactly why they’re here, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to rub it in.

“I think the question you should be asking is what to do now. Nobody else lives here, but holy magic this strong is sure to draw a lot of attention…” he purrs, emphasizing the teasing lilt in his voice.

The angel growls, looking back up to Viktor with an angry scowl.

“And why does that concern you?”

Slowly, the demon curls his upper lip into a menacing smile, razor sharp canines on proud display. For the full effect, he subtly lifts the cut, elegant jut of his chin, smoldering down at the intruders through silver lashes. 

“As the owner of this land, I can’t have troublemaking angels bringing more unwanted guests into my territory.” He purposefully pauses, bringing a finger to his lip in mock thought. “Not that it would be too big of an issue, since I am a pillar demon…”

The smaller male gasps, snapping his wide, dewy gaze towards Viktor, barely visible behind the elder’s shoulder. Viktor watches curiously as he untangles from the female and dashes forward, stopped an arm’s length away when the older male grabs his wrist. Agitation is written across his face, and he opens his mouth to speak before the young one beats him to it.

“You’re a pillar demon?”

For a minute, Viktor is stunned. Not only by the angel’s reckless abandon, but his entire being, now revealed fully for the demon’s eager appraisal. He’s _tiny_ , the top of his head barely meeting Viktor’s pectorals, with fluffy black hair and a cherubic face. And just as the demon begins to reply, his scent wafts over, floral and sweet like a stroll through the cherry trees of Earth. Viktor knows what it means and inhales it greedily, observing with glee the blush that spreads across the angel’s round cheeks and pug nose. A sweet little angel, innocent and untouched. It’s not surprising, everyone in Heaven is such a prude, but it fills him with heat all the same. The nasty smirk melts easily into a bright, disarming smile, and he doesn’t care to correct it.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Viktor Nikiforov, pillar demon of lust, at your service.” 

He bows his head, long strands of hair falling gracefully over his chest. When he looks back up, the angel’s big eyes are glittering with hope and unshed tears.

“Then, you’re able to send souls to purgatory, aren’t you?”

_That_ takes Viktor aback. How bold! His smile grows of its own accord. It’s true, as one of the pillars of Hell, he is able to send souls he deems worthy to purgatory, where they have the opportunity to be cleansed of sin and sent to Heaven.

“Very clever, little one. You’re right, I can do that. But tell me, why should I send you angels back to Heaven when you’ve intruded on my territory and treated me so unkindly?”

He could quicken things by suggesting it himself, there’s not a shred of doubt in his mind that the angel would agree; they’re designed to be unselfish, self-denying to a fault in order to wholly devote themselves to their God. But he refrains, unabashedly studying the young one's expression as it changes from watery hope, to panicked thought, to anxious determination. Viktor’s certain he’s reached the desired conclusion; the demon made his lust intentionally obvious, after all. The little angel takes a deep breath and meets his gaze once more, pale wings shivering. Viktor raises an eyebrow.

“You can keep me. Just, please, my family- please send them.”

The others visibly startle, all of their eyes turning to Viktor with a bated quiet.

“How noble of you, starling. If you’ll let me have you, I’ll gladly take your family to purgatory.”

The outcry is immediate, every angel talking over one another with the same opinion: they don’t want him to do it. The two females hug him desperately while the other male gestures wildly, arms taut with tension as he shouts his protest. If he wanted to, Viktor could skip the sentimentality and just send them now, he doesn’t need any consent or effort from the other party. However, he allows them their moment; this will be the last time the small one sees his family, after all.

“Yuuri, baby, we can’t let you do this. We’ll just stick together, it’ll be fine as long as we have each other,” the older female, a stout, tan little thing, sniffles as she runs a hand through his hair. He looks at her with so much love that Viktor’s almost jealous, no matter if she’s family.

“I have to, mama. I can’t let you spend the rest of your life fighting.”

“Fuck no! You expect us to leave you with a _lust demon?!_ He could rape you, torture you, God knows what else-!” the younger female shrieks, gripping the small angel’s shoulders like he’ll disappear any second.

Viktor’s too busy muffling his snickers at her impious language to remind her that he is _the_ lust demon, not _a_ lust demon. His angel- Yuuri- wipes the arm of his white tunic against his nose and gives her a small, sad smile.

“We just have to trust him, Mari.”

She’s about to object when Yuuri turns away, causing her voice to die in a strangled growl. With the same teary smile, he hugs the other male, who doesn’t hesitate to wrap around him tightly. The others gather and hold one another, crying silently. It’s quite a touching scene, and Viktor honestly admires the angels’ intense familial love. He’s never experienced such a thing, and he imagines it’s both rewarding and exhausting. 

Although he’s probably the softest person in the underworld, he’s still a demon through and through; one heartfelt moment cannot sway him from getting a virgin angel into his covetous clutches. So he stays quiet, watching the family say their goodbyes to Yuuri in a final embrace.

After several minutes, the little angel disentangles from the flock and faces Viktor. Said demon tries his best to appear welcoming, offering an encouraging smile and extending a gloved hand. Biting his lip, Yuuri looks at it for a few seconds before tentatively stepping forwards and giving Viktor his own, fitting perfectly into the demon’s larger grasp. Gently, he pulls the young angel forwards, who turns towards his family as fluid as a dancer while he’s moved to Viktor’s side.

“I love you mama, papa, Mari. Please try to be happy without me,” he says, trembling when a strong arm snakes around his waist.

“Now, starling?” Viktor asks, lovingly gazing down.

Choked with emotion, Yuuri only nods. The older female heaves one more cry before the angels are engulfed in magenta smoke, whirling powerfully before gradually curling into nothing. 

There is a pregnant pause in which the only noise is Yuuri’s sniffles and the faint fizzing of the surrounding ember grass.

When it’s abundantly clear that his angel has nothing he wants to say, Viktor steps in front of him, circling his soft middle so he can join hands at the small of Yuuri’s back. Timidly, the little one lifts his face, looking at Viktor with glistening doe eyes and blotchy red cheeks and it’s all he can do to not ravish him right then and there.

“Let’s go home, darling.”

⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅•∙∘☽~✼~☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅

Dinner is an awkward affair, to say the least. Yuuri has not said a word since his family’s departure, keeping his gaze trained down as he merely follows wherever Viktor leads. As much as he might like to get the show on the road, the demon knows that he has Yuuri for all eternity, and would rather the angel give himself willingly than take him by force. So he lets him grieve, only speaking to explain important things, like the phrase to tell the poisonous flowers of his hedge-fence so they’ll let him through, or the sigil he must trace to unlock the front door.

Neither demons nor angels need to eat, so Viktor is not particularly offended that Yuuri is ignoring the feast spread across his long golden dining table. However, he can’t help but notice those beautiful eyes continuously glancing at the lavish dessert section (Viktor has a major sweet tooth, so he can’t help but overuse his culinary magic in that regard). Humming at the delicious taste of roasted ham, the demon ponders; he guesses that heavenly creatures are not allowed to indulge in food whatsoever, since gluttony, and practically anything pleasurable for that matter, is a sin. An idea suddenly comes to Viktor’s mind, and he smiles around his fork as he thinks of all the ways he can coax his little angel into his decadent new life. He’s going to absolutely spoil him rotten. When he’s had his fill of the savory dishes, he delicately clears his throat to gain Yuuri’s attention. He shows no sign of hearing, but Viktor continues anyway.

“Starling, would you like to come sit with me over here?”

For a brief period, it seems as though Yuuri truly hasn’t heard him, so Viktor opens his mouth to repeat when the angel very gingerly pushes his chair back, as though he’s afraid to make any noise. Then he gets up, the demon watching as he rounds the length of the table, his steps lighter than the feathers of his small wings. Once he reaches the other side, he hesitates a bit, but continues walking until he stands inches from Viktor’s chair.

At a slow, steady pace, Viktor reaches for him, like he might to placate a frightened animal. Gently, his hands take hold of Yuuri’s waist, nudging him forward until he understands and climbs into the demon’s lap. With a content sigh, Viktor fully wraps around the little angel curled perfectly against his chest. He savours the feeling of having a warm body in his arms before leaning over the table, careful not to jostle Yuuri, and grabs the dish cradling a dainty strawberry cake. When he’s settled back into the chair, he uses the fork to slice a piece with an adequate ratio of fruit, frosting and cake. Then, he raises it up to Yuuri’s mouth.

“I saw you looking at this one earlier, darling. It’s delicious, I think you would love it,” he croons, lips just centimeters from the shell of his angel’s ear.

In the pause that follows, he feels heat radiate from the cheek next to his hand, smiling as he admires the feel of Yuuri’s soft hair against his face. Rather than responding, the angel opens his mouth just enough to accept the offered sample, unable to contain a quiver when the rich and creamy taste spreads on his tongue. Delighted, Viktor proceeds to feed him bite by bite, interrupting only to shift Yuuri slightly so he can see him eat. Each piece seems to open him up more and more until he’s excitedly eyeing the demon’s hand as it moves to the plate and back. 

The last piece is adorned by half a strawberry, glossed in a thick, sugary syrup, and when Viktor brings it to his lips, he takes it avidly, so much so that a dollop of glaze smears the corner of his mouth. Round cheeks flushing, Yuuri glimpses down as the demon titters. He’s made to look back up when a large, warm palm cups his jaw, breath escaping him at the twinkle in Viktor’s blue eyes. With his thumb, he rubs the syrup across Yuuri’s plump bottom lip, a familiar hunger kindling in his belly when the angel’s jaw relaxes under his touch, mouth opening ever so lightly. Oh, more than anything Viktor wants to push his finger into that wet heat, to have this chaste little creature suckle and moan at the taste, a tantalizing promise of more to come. Somehow, he manages to restrain himself, opting instead to tip down and press their lips together.

He feels Yuuri’s sharp inhale, frozen in his lungs as Viktor kisses him. The hand not holding his face, now free of the empty plate thanks to magic, runs a comforting path up and down the angel’s side. When he pulls back, he finds wide brown eyes gazing up at him with shock and awe. It makes his heart flutter, and when Yuuri worries his lip with little blunt teeth, Viktor’s too distracted to try and kiss him again.

“What… will be my role here, with you?”

It takes a moment to register that Yuuri has spoken. His angel has been silent all evening, so Viktor was more or less expecting to spend the night in a one-sided dialogue. Once he realizes the question, he sighs inwardly. In hindsight, he should have foreseen this as Yuuri’s first query, but he had hoped to ease him into it, perhaps after a few cups of wine and a thorough seduction.

“Well, sweetheart, you’re going to be my pet,” he answers, maintaining a soft and level voice.

Yuuri visibly blanches, and Viktor is quick to try and mollify him.

“No, no, it’s nothing to be afraid of, my little dove. I’m not going to hurt you, not in any way that won’t make you feel incredibly good. And even then, we’ll go at your pace, and if you ever truly hate something, I’ll stop and we’ll never do it again,” he rushes to explain.

The horror on Yuuri’s face has lessened only by a miniscule, replaced with an adorable brow-knitting confusion. It takes every ounce of Viktor’s legendary willpower to keep from kissing him again. Belatedly, he realizes that he’s speaking to a _virgin angel_ , and Yuuri has absolutely no clue what he’s on about.

“Essentially, you’re to be my companion and lover, which means that there are certain unsanctified things I’ll expect you to join,” he says, reveling in the dark blush that floods Yuuri’s skin at his words. 

With a devilish grin, he dips them slightly so he’s leering over the angel’s tiny frame, still curled maidenly in his lap.

“But fret not, starling, I’ll show you how delectable these sins of the flesh can be. I’ll guide you to pleasure beyond your wildest imagination.”

Stunned beyond words, Yuuri merely gapes at him, but his terror has been completely overridden by embarrassment, so Viktor counts it as a win. The conversation reminds him of something important as well.

“Ah, Yuuri? Would you like to keep your wings?”

At his gasp, Viktor realizes he’s frightened him once more. He really needs to remember that Yuuri doesn’t know anything about Hell and explain things all at once!

“Shh, my love, there’s no need to fear. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, remember?”

He waits for Yuuri to nod, shaken but trusting, before he continues.

“The dark magic in Hell’s atmosphere eats up any light it can find, and since your wings are made of light, they will slowly disintegrate. It means that you, too, will become infernal once all of your holy magic has been consumed.”

The tremors of his angel make Viktor’s heart ache, and he instantly squeezes him tighter.

“However, I think I may be able to keep your light intact, if that’s what you’d like.”

Immediately he has Yuuri’s attention, the angel swiftly raising his chin to meet Viktor’s gaze.

“You can?” he breathes, voice full of hope.

Frankly, Viktor’s not sure, since he’s never done it before. Nevertheless, as a pillar demon, his power is second only to Lucifer himself, so it’s worth a shot.

“Let’s move somewhere more comfortable.”

In a flash, the food has vanished, his golden table clean and impeccably shining once more. Viktor stands, lifting Yuuri into his arms as he does, and moves from the dining room to a large sitting area. Gingerly, he places the angel onto his velvet couch, maneuvering him so he faces away. Then Viktor sits as well, briefly rubbing his palms together to make sure they’re warm.

“Ready, darling?” he asks.

When he has Yuuri’s permission, he begins to stroke his wings, still folded demurely against his back, with reverent fingertips, not missing the hitch in his angel’s breath. Because of his small stature, the demon assumed Yuuri was a fledgling when he first caught sight of him, and his suspicion is confirmed when he feels the downy feather-fluff nestled in his coverts. Just past the cusp of maturation, it will take about 500 more years for him to completely shed his baby feathers, maybe 1000 if he’s a late bloomer. Gently, Viktor urges his wings to unfold, marveling at their silky smooth texture. Yuuri pants quietly, flushed from his face down the elegant line of his neck, slipping past the collar of his tunic.

Decided he’s done teasing, Viktor conjures a protection spell for the second time that day, this one intended for dark magic as opposed to holy. Pale pink runes swirl through the layers of feather, glowing and pulsing while they work their way towards Yuuri’s body. They snake up his arms and wrap around his fingers, and when he sees them he huffs in surprise. As Viktor’s magic rushes through him, he shakes involuntarily. Finally, when the expanse of his extremities are covered, the runes’ light grows to a brilliant white before fading into nothing.

There’s a moment of silence in which the demon fears that he’s done nothing of help, before the singed tips of Yuuri’s wings heal right in front of his eyes. Then, like ink soaking paper, magenta blooms from the edges of each feather, starting deep and gradually paling as it nears the concave curve of each wing’s center. It makes them even more captivating, strokes of pink and white mixing more beautifully than any painting Viktor’s ever seen.

“Did it work?” Yuuri asks, timorous as he peeks over his shoulder.

Awestruck, the demon is too dazed to answer, so Yuuri carefully spreads a wing into his line of sight. His eyes widen at the change in colour, wrapping the wing around himself so he can run his fingers through its feathers.

“Wow…” he murmurs.

A smile blossoms across his cheeks, and he tosses himself towards Viktor’s arms, which open for him immediately.

“Thank you so much!”

Once he’s recovered, the demon pets Yuuri’s hair affectionately, smiling down as he snuggles into his abdomen. With his other hand, he tilts the angel’s face up so their gazes can meet.

“You’re welcome, starling. Now, may I give you something else?”

The heat in his eyes says it all, and his angel instinctively coils out of embarrassment. Despite this, he very bravely nods his head, the action making his nose rub against Viktor’s navel, and Viktor melts at the adorable mix of apprehension and determination.

Satisfied with his approval, the demon softly wraps his hands around Yuuri’s neck, hurrying through the spell so he won’t frighten his angel. Between his fingers a glowing band manifests, pink runes whirling through the magic before it transforms into a satiny collar. He pulls back and watches as Yuuri experimentally pokes it, and once he’s sure it won’t hurt him, runs his fingertips along the fabric.

“Now you’re officially mine,” Viktor purrs, relishing the pretty sight his little one makes.

A clicking noise pulls the demon’s attention to the adjacent hallway, and he beams when he sees Makkachin peeping around the corner.

“Makka-baby! Come and meet your new papa!”

The hellhound leaps from her hiding spot and scrambles over, propping her paws on the couch as she curiously sniffs Yuuri. The angel giggles, scratching her head while she prods all around him with her wet nose.

"This is Makkachin. She's very similar to the dogs of Earth, except she can breathe fire when she's angry. But don't worry, she only gets upset when someone knocks on the door, and that rarely happens," Viktor explains, stroking the creature's back before leaning down and calling for her attention.

"Makkachin, this is Yuuri. He's a part of our family now, so I expect you to protect him!"

Makkachin woofs and starts licking Viktor's face, causing both him and Yuuri to laugh.

"It's nice to meet you, sweet girl," the angel croons.

Once the dog tires of playing with them, Viktor takes Yuuri on a tour of the manor, showing him all the nooks and crannies of his new home. It concludes with the master bedroom, and as they stand outside the door, he notices Yuuri's nervous demeanor. Taking pity, he grasps the angel's hand in his own, bringing it to his lips for a peck.

"Darling, we won't be doing anything but sleeping tonight. I imagine you must be exhausted."

Yuuri visibly relaxes, and with an arm around his waist, Viktor opens the door and guides him into the room. As a powerful demon, Viktor prides himself on his opulent decor. The space is gleaming in gold, black and red, a gargantuan bed shaded by thick embroidered drapes standing proudly in the center. Preening at the amazed look on his lover's face, the demon pads to one of the giant wardrobes to rummage through his nightwear. Unfortunately, he doesn't have anything lacy or flowy to decorate his new pet, so he settles for the smallest sleeping shirt he can find, making a mental note to conjure up some negligees tomorrow. With a heart-shaped smile, he motions for Yuuri to come closer.

"Let's get ready for bed."


End file.
